This reviewer enjoys nothing more than having his head turned by an artist he may previously have written off. Wayward NYC singer-songwriter JEFFREY LEWIS being an especially acute example. Prior to last year's stunning '12 Crass Songs', this writer would have summarily dismissed him as an irritating acid-folk aberration and given him short shrift.
'12 Crass Songs' changed all that, however. Having the audacity to cover 12 of the legendary anarcho-punk outfit's tunes in itself sounded like a recipe for disaster, but having the skill to re-invent twelve of the angriest protest songs in living history in a modern context and making them sound vibrant and box fresh in their own right was quite an achievement. Presenting them with a lovingly hand-drawn cartoon representing Lewis's growing admiration for the none-more-black Epping anarchists was more than enough to seal the deal. As a result, your reviewer is awaiting a new Jeffrey Lewis album with tangible anticipation for once.
The syntactically-challenged ''Em Are I' is a revelation too. This time, the material's all self-penned (well, aside from bassist bro' Jack's madcap epic, 'The Upside Down Cross') and Lewis joined by his usual compadres: Jack Lewis (bass, vocals) and drummer David Beauchamp, while cameos are supplied by Dinosaur Jr's J. Mascis, Herman Dune and killer banjo heroine Emily Lacy.
As per usual, Jeff reserves the right to go with where the mood strikes him on a given day, though these days the eclecticism is backed up a winning, idiosyncratic approach which never loses sight of the tunes in the process. Hell, in the case of both the bracing 'Slogans' and the roustabout rock'n'roll of 'Broken Broken Broken Heart', he even delivers recognisably linear punky anthems, even if the expected existential lyrical bent (“every time I think I can't feel worse, I find out it's not true”) is clearly very much in evidence. Lewis hasn't wholly given up on positivity, though: parts of 'Slogans' (“I've convinced myself that everyone I meet is NOT better than me!”) sound like they could have been written by Barack Obama. Yes, indeed you can Jeff. Right on!
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Elsewhere, Lewis' musings on spirituality, the afterlife and existence itself come in a variety of strange, but alluring sonic shapes and sizes. The perky 'Good Old Pig, Gone To Avalon' finds Jack Lewis' bass playing sounding truly Godlike and J. Mascis peeling off a pair of brilliantly OTT guitar solos. 'Whistle Past The Graveyard' is a zombie stomp of some repute with Emily Lacy's banjo duelling gamely with a band playing like The Dillards on industrial strength amphetamine and the closing 'Mine-Theme: Moocher From The Future' takes on time travel, space rock and psychedelia in Lewis' own inimitible, wordy way. And escapes pretty much unscathed too.
There's still room for Jeff's folksier leanings, of course.'To Be Objectified' finds him musing on the ageing process as only he can (“I say thank you to heaven for the teeth, the skin, the bone/ though I'm slowly giving them back, I still appreciate the loan”); 'Bugs & Flowers” re-incarnation tale recalls The Handsome Family in both its' bizarre lyrical twists and the song's country-tinged canter and 'Roll Bus Roll' offers a wonderfully childlike commentary on (I think) travel sickness.
It all adds up to a glorious, creative splurge which flicks the V's at the zeitgeist and it's much the better for that. After the road to Domascus moment that was '12 Crass Songs', it marks the spot where this writer sloughs off his naysayer's cloak – hopefully for good – and considers becoming a fully-blown disciple. Lordy. Consider this head emphatically turned.
(http://www.roughtraderecords.com)
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